In Perfect Accords
by Lily30323
Summary: Cecily loathed shadowhunters and everything they stood for. At least, that's what she had thought. On a request from her parents, she had enrolled in the Academy during the middle of the semester. Her goal: bring Will home. Gabrily AU with no Mortmain and the same characters faced with revised situations.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Infernal Devices character, settings, or ideas. Cassandra Clare does. I do not make any profits from this work.

 **Prologue:**

Cecily clutched the reigns of Xanthus, her grip growing stronger by the moment. The winds whipped her face as she rode Xanthus, on the Welsh hillside. Battering rains poured on her as she desperately wrapped her traveling cloak around herself, a failed attempt to keep warm. _Bring him home._ She flicked the crop over Xanthus' back, urging the horse to run faster. She felt blood run down her face as the raging wind sliced her cheek. _Don't let the cunning of the shadowhunters deceive you. They stripped the marks off your father's back._ Xanthus was now racing through the rain, his flanks heaving.

Realizing the overworked state of the palomino, she dismounted and allowed him to lap up the mud of the surrounding fen. As long as Cecily could remember, she had enjoyed equestrian sports like polo. William had claimed Balius as his own horse, so she got Xanthus. The memory of Will stung more than her cheek. His betrayal of their father had come as the most shock to Cecily. Their mother, Linette had known for some time that Will had become intimate with the shadowhunters. Edmund, the man of the house, had tried to stop any relationships from happening, but was too late.

Though the Herondale family was one of the Noble Families, they considered themselves mundane. Cecily had been curious since the beginning of time about the Nephilim, but had been forbidden to make contact with them until recently. Over the years, she had learned of their treachery. It had been their mercilessness that caused them to strip Edmund's marks simply because of his love with Linette, a mundane with the Sight.

 _The Law is harsh, but it is the Law._ That was what Inquisitor Whitelaw had told Edmund moments before he set fire to the runes. Just the thought caused Cecily to recoil in disgust. It was repulsive that she had to live among their kind until she could persuade stubborn Will to return home. Cecily knew that convincing her elder brother to go against anything he set his mind to was near impossible. Naturally, she hadn't told her parents this.

It would be easier for them to accept the truth over time than for her to shove it in their faces. Her mother had always been sensitive to the matter of Will and broke down every time his name was mentioned in the house. Eventually, Cecily and her father just stopped any speaking of him at all. Will Herondale had become a ghost boy.

A few hours later, Cecily noticed that she was nearing Bridgeport, a small town close to Alicante. Just to delay her arrival at the Academy, she made the unnecessary stop. A minor inn provided her with a hot meal of onion soup and a steamy bath. Xanthus was sheltered in the inn's stable while Cecily enjoyed the amenities. Edmund had given her plenty of spending money. He had cautioned her to use it sparingly, but she wasn't planning on aiding the shadowhunter economy in any way. It wasn't as if any shop in Alicante had anything she wanted. The Herondales were relatively wealthy, although Edmund had always been a frugal man.

The soup seemed to warm her spirits as well as her body. Bridgeport's local nurse had also stitched up her cheek. An iratze would have done the trick much faster, but Cecily preferred to keep as far apart from Nephilim customs as possible. Enduring pain was only a side effect of this resolve.

It had been barely twilight when Edmund had insisted on sending Cecily on her way. Though it was only a day's journey, Edmund had wanted to make sure that Cecily would have enough time to create a plan along the way. Cecily had no intention of doing so. Her timepiece read 7:42, which left enough time for her to take a nap, restock supplies, and graze her horse. Will would be delayed as long as she felt was necessary.

Through the window, Cecily saw that the rains had subsided to a mild drizzle. She left the inn, treading over the dirt path leading from Bridgeport. Xanthus snorted in protest once they had reached to fields and instead nudged Cecily's pack full of fruit. It had become a problem over the years that the headstrong colt was used to receiving everything he wanted. Edmund had warned his daughter not to spoil him, but as usual, she hadn't listened.

Xanthus pawed the unsatisfactory grass and tilted his chin. Sighing, Cecily handed her horse a sugar cube and an apple. Apparently immortal horses had higher eating standards than normal ones. Even Balius, who had been raised by strict Will, had turned out picky in the end. Their separation had devastated Xanthus, who had thought his brother had died. Balius, on the other hand, was probably sleeping in a stable in Alicante and getting fat. The indignity of it all was enough for Cecily to scuff her boot against the fencepost.

Will had always gotten the better toys. The stonger, faster horse. The larger portion of Herondale acreage and Ravenscar Manor. The great inheritance of millions of credits, almost rivaling that of the Lightwoods'. His thanks when he was twelve years old? Going to join the Nephilim. _After_ all those possessions had been signed in his name.

With another mighty kick, the whole fence toppled. Cecily surveyed her surroundings, to check for any prying eyes. When she saw that there were none, she flicked her wrist. The fenceposts immediately righted themselves. As much she loathed the shadowhunters themselves, Cecily did not object to using her Angelic blood to her own convenience. She didn't have a mandate to fulfill. When one was free of the weight of responsibility, they could do whatever they chose with the gifts they were born with.

Though her father would rather die than admit it, the one thing Cecily knew he respected about them was their overwhelming sense of duty. Nephilim law had a dark history, but no matter what the case, it was abided. It was honored.

No mundane society had achieved such a feat. Those coming close ruled over the people using oppression rather than motivation. For mundanes, strife was enjoyment caused on purpose. Mundanes discriminated against one another by meaningless factors such as skin and place of origin. To Cecily, it was laughable that they had created their own undoing. It was the duty of the Nephilim to protect those idiots.

Before she could help herself, she was doubling with laughter over the fence. Dirt was marking her previously flawless dress, but she hardly noticed. It had felt like ages since she had laughed to the point of losing control. She pictured mundanes battling each other for useless means and held her torso, hoping in vain to prevent herself from further laughter. A few mundanes that had opened street vendors stared at Cecily. The oddball wealthy woman laughing over a fence feeding an unnaturally palomino colt. Probably something the townsfolk wouldn't encounter often.

By the time her fit had died down, Cecily sat by the hearth, pen in hand. She was already planning to write her letter explaining to her parents that Will did not feel obligated to come home. It was always a possibility to stay at this inn over the next few months instead of enrolling in the Academy. She would most likely run out of pocket money by February, which would be a reasonable amount of time for her parents to accept Will's absence. The thought of disobeying her parents caused Cecily to cringe inside. It wasn't as if she had never defied them before. It was the fact that Cecily had always been curious of the shadowhunters despite her upbringing. She was fascinated to learn of how the demon towers of the glass city held up the wards. Cecily longed to feel the burn of a stele against her skin and feel the effects of the numerous runes. Since a very young age, Cecily had been one of the sharpest tools in the shed. Tutors appreciated her open attitude towards learning anything from marine biology to the history of literature. This scholarly desire was what drove her to want to attend the Academy. She knew that she would never truly fulfill the expectations of her blood, but she could at least learn more of her heritage.

There was a reason why the Academy's acceptance letter had arrived at Ravenscar Manor. The Academy was in need of gifted students such as herself. Even though Edmund had specifically told Headmistress Penhallow not to send anything to his daughter, she had done it anyway. In the end, Cecily's parents regarded the letter as an opportunity to bring Will home and reluctantly agreed. Attending was viewed as a great honor. Honor was something Cecily had never known and craved, even if the source was from her family's enemies.

The pen in the inkjar and roll of paper were left in their place. Cecily wasn't in the mood to think of her brother when she could look forward to a few months of unique education.

After paying the innkeeper, she set out on the road to Alicante again. This time, the rains only kept her cool and the breezes were a relief to her hot skin. Xanthus practically flew across the valleys and through the towns, filled with renewed energy. For a few hours, both horse and partner rode the wind until Cecily spotted Great Hill. She unburdened Xanthus and removed her telescope from her satchel. From Great Hill, Cecily took in the most breathtaking spectrum she had ever seen. Seven glass towers illuminated the skyline, which was filled with the crimson of the wards. Beyond the wards, Cecily could see only vast forest. Warlocks had enchanted the wards to show illusions to any possible trespassers or mundanes. If Cecily weren't of shadowhunter origin, she wouldn't even be able to see the tower and the wards.

Cecily mounted her horse and began to ride towards the wards, mesmerized by their beauty. When she came close to the red barrier, it crackled and sparked, sensing the nearby shadowhunter. Intuitions kicked in as she placed her hand against the ward, watching as the crimson particles parted to reveal the city. Wide cobblestone streets appeared before her. The streets were dimly lighted by oil lamps held up by posts. No one was out, seeing as it was midnight. Victorian-style buildings seemed to veer out from the many streets. A voice inside Cecily's head told her what to do.

She walked across the street and made a left turn, arriving at the Gard. Another turn and a climb up a hill later, she stood in Angel Square. The famous plaza in the centre of Alicante was nothing as she had imagined it. A massive stone scultpure positioned in the middle of the square depicted the Angel Raziel rising from the waters of Lake Lyn, clutching the mortal cup and sword. Water was pouring into a fountain at the base of the sculpture, so it appeared as if he was literally rising from water.

Before coming to her decision, Cecily had read the acceptance letter several times. _To get to the Academy, travel to Alicante and enter the wards. Follow you instincts and you will arrive at your desired destination._ At the time, it had made little sense to her, but now she understood it with crystal clarity.

Now, she didn't need the voice in her head, for the Academy was the tallest and grandest building in all of Alicante. It dwarfed even Consul Wayland's castle and every surrounding structure for miles. The Academy was a giant palace with stained glass windows and tall turrets. The building itself made Cecily feel puny and she felt that this was most likely the intended feeling the architects that build the castle wanted for the citizens of Alicante. A set of double oak doors loomed over her, with polished knobs and a brass knocker in the shape of a Fortitude rune. Cecily removed her acceptance letter, braced herself, and knocked.

* * *

 **Note: For those of you who have read my last story, you know that it was basically a disaster, so this is my second fanfic. I have rewrote the story and posted this in hopes that it will come the way I had originally wanted it to. Throughout TIF, Tessa, Will, and Jem have been outlined, leaving out Cecily. I wanted to emphasize her perspective in this story as well as Gabriel. Since Gabrily fanfics are so rare, I wanted to depict them without Mortmain coming in and ruining the story. The antagonists will be Benedict and the inner demons of Cecily and Gabriel. If you like it so far, please follow the story. Write your opinions in a review since my last story didn't get that many reviews and I would really appreciate it if I received more feedback. I also promise that next time the chapter will not be so short. Thanks!**

 **Lily30323**


	2. Nothing Less

Nothing Less

Cecily stood outside the door to the Academy for what felt like hours. She couldn't help but think that she had done something wrong. Her instincts had guided her to knock on the door twice, so she surely couldn't have messed that up, but then why wasn't the door opening? Maybe the whole acceptance letter was just a cruel joke on Cecily. If so, it wouldn't be the first time that had occurred.

Wayland had sent a brief letter to Edmund, inviting him out for a drink and some political conversation. He had been skeptical, but wanted to take advantage of the chance, however slim, of regaining the Consul's trust. When he had arrived at the meeting place, a couple of Shax demons were there to greet him. At the time, he had still been adjusting to the grueling and slow pace of mundane natural healing.

Ten minutes passed.

Cecily was at her limit. If they weren't going to let her in, they weren't going to let her in. Without a second thought, she turned on her heel to retrieve Xanthus from the Gard stable. There was a drawn-out creaking noise from behind her. Whatever it was, there was apparently no concern of subtlety.

As fast as Xanthus rode the wind, a dagger was in Cecily's hand and her knees bent in a balanced position.

"You have good instincts for an untrained hunter." The voice was female was tinged with an English accent.

The double doors opened to reveal a lanky woman with brown hair in a perfectly placed ponytail. Cecily couldn't help staring at her. Her squared shoulders and clear tone represented volumes of confidence. The only part of her that seemed flawed were her hands: calloused from the hardwork of training each morning.

She stood up even taller and said, "Well? Are you going to just stand there in the Gard or are you enrolling?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the right side of the doorway, in a casual gesture of impatience.

For a moment, Cecily lost her voice. "Yes," she replied in a husky voice. Still seemingly frozen in the past, Cecily sheathed her dagger and headed towards the double doors, curious to enter them.

Before she was able to, the woman blocked her path in an abnormally swift motion. "I'd like to see you're acceptance letter."

"Oh!" cried Cecily. "Yes. That." She had no idea why she stuttered so much around her. It was probably because of her hostile glares. Cecily rummaged through her bag in search of her letter, which she had quite carelessly shoved when she had gotten into her 'defensive stance.'

The woman snatched the paper from her hands with astounding speed, yet again. She pursed her lips. "Sloppiness is never advantageous to a shadowhunter. Especially not a pupil at the Academy. I suggest you work on that." Without pausing to see if Cecily followed, she turned on her heel and headed through the doors.

Cecily had decided that she didn't like this woman. The two had just met and already there was a sense of apprehension in the air. She hadn't even introduced herself. "Excuse me?" she called out. "May I ask your name?" Cecily didn't want to get into her bad graces, but surely it couldn't be offensive in Nephilim custom to ask for introductions.

Her back stiffened before she slowly turned around to face Cecily. In one move her hand was out. "Forgive me for my lack of manners." At this, she tilted her chin up cockily. "Elise. Elise Penhallow."

"Cecily. Cecily Herondale." She shook hands with Elise.

Elise scowled. "You're not allowed to introduce yourself that way to your superiors. It's a boarding school, not the MI5. You would say, _Cecily Herondale of Wales, ma'am_ and nod in my direction before shaking my hand."

Cecily shrugged before realizing she had to straighten up and replied, "Yes, ma'am."

"That's better. You may not be taking this into consideration now, but understanding the correct etiquette is essential to becoming a full-blown shadowhunter. I am to be addressed, _Deputy Penhallow_ or _ma'am_. My husband, George Penhallow is the headmaster. Address him as _Headmaster Penhallow_ , _Professor Penhallow_ , or _sir_." Deputy Penhallow looked back at Cecily.

She nodded in response.

"I would take you on the grand tour of the Academy, but you probably need your rest. Tomorrow will be a long day and you will have to wake at seven past midnight in order to be on time to your first training session."

Cecily gasped and took a step back. She hadn't thought she would be starting so soon. She needed more time to prepare. "You hadn't told me I was starting tomorrow!"

" _Ma'am_ ," Penhallow insisted.

"I mean, you hadn't told me I was to start so early, ma'am."

Penhallow gestured with her left hand. "I would apologize for this, but I'm terribly afraid it was the headmaster's idea, not mine. Every time a new student is enrolled during the middle of the year, he or she is sent a letter explaining that they are to start a few weeks in. Then, they start the next day. It is a bit of a test of his to see whether or not incoming students are disciplined, organized, and prepared. I pity the victims of this prank. That's why I told you."

"Oh," said Cecily. _Damn! There was that stuttering, again!_ she thought to herself. _Why did she do that every time that woman spoke?_ "Well, thank you for telling me, ma'am. If not for your actions, I would probably have made an awful first impression tomorrow."

Penhallow cocked her head once more. "We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

There was that brusque snobbishness again. "Of course not, ma'am. Now, would you do me the favor of showing me to my dorm?"

"This way." Penhallow made an identical gesture to the one before.

As they walked, the two women passed large painting that were barely illuminated by the soft glow of the witchlight runestone in Penhallow's hand. Some depicted Raziel rising from Lake Lyn while others depicted scenes of Jonathan Shadowhunter and David battling demons side by side. Each painting was framed in solid gold placards on the stone walls.

"Intriguing," noted Cecily.

The witchlight runestones didn't emanate enough light to fully view all of the sights Cecily wanted to see, but it vague images were more than nothing. Penhallow kept turning in different directions and it had become difficult to keep up. She had long ago lost count of the turns and the approximation of the meters-length of each corridor. There was absolutely no way she would be able to find her way around on her own without help. Despite her dislike for Penhallow, she would have to take the 'grand tour' to get a better sense of direction. That meant rising at four after midnight at the latest.

Penhallow groaned in contempt. "Would you stop whisper-counting. You may think that you are the only one able to hear it, but each number is audible to me. And, no, estimating the length of a hallway will not impress me. You clearly have a good sense of direction, but that doesn't excuse you from the regular duties of a shadowhunter."

Cecily bit back the snarl that seemingly to rose up in her throat like a white-capped wave. "Of course, not, ma'am. I was just trying to find my way."

"You'll have plenty of time to do that tomorrow morning. Until then, I suggest you keep up with my pace or you won't be rested enough to train."

Cecily just nodded, once more. It wasn't even her first day and she didn't want to make an enemy of the deputy of the school. With a temper as steamy as hers, it was easy to make enemies and lose friends. Since Cecily had been homeschooled her whole life in a countryside manor, she had been almost totally isolated. Apart from her mother, Linette, she had had absolutely no experience, on etiquette and social terms. The whole idea of 'school' had been a distant and unimaginable one. She had read several books about mundane boarding schools while daydreaming about the countless opportunities that awaited.

But the prospect of attending an actual school was somewhat frightening. Cecily had heard of the discrimination that happened at schools. The specific groups of people that bounded together, casting out others. Anyone with common sense would realize that it was simply human nature, but Cecily was shocked at the injustice of it all. As far as human nature was concerned, the mundane world and the Shadow world were one and the same.

The mundanes, foolish as they were, created strife in their wake. Because they had no other divine beings to create divisions against, they created divisions among themselves. Stupid as they were, mundanes get themselves killed for no other purpose than to settle simple disputes. They were undisciplined and weak-minded compared to the stringent Clave. There was little the shadowhunters could do to stop the bloodshed. Their mandate was to protect mundanes from demons. Not from themselves.

Though most Nephilim and Downworlders would rather die than admit it, the Shadow world's politics more often than not went the same as that of mundane's. Most of the Downworld in major cities ran on gossip mongers that were paid money for information. It may be similar to the mundanes selling 'news papers' full of valuable information at stands. The Clave was structured in a hierarchy similar to the mundane governments of England. The Nephilim set up Institutes as refuges and homes for shadowhunters. Mundanes had comparable establishments like shelters with stocks and otherwise.

The schools of mundanes and the schools of the Nephilim couldn't be all that different. There would still be groups to stick to and groups to avoid. Diplomacy would work the same way and whatnot. All Cecily had to do was form some sort of clever plot to lure Will into her clutches. It wouldn't be hard. There had to be something.

After about an hour or so of walking, Cecily arrived at a set of double doors identical to those running all through the silent corridor. Penhallow held open the doors and shoved her in. "Expect to be woken tomorrow morning for the grand tour. Sleep well!" she called, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

Cecily found a candle on a drawer that stood directly to the right of the door. She lit it with some flint from her bag and set it on the top of the drawer. The room was cast with a soft yellow glow. The wallpaper was a lavender color that seemed invasive. To the left of the room was a four-poster with silk hangings in the same shade. There was a door in the near corner of the room that was probably a bathroom and a tiny window on the far wall.

The dormitory came with an unappealing sense in the air. Nearly every piece of furniture was loomed over Cecily, similar to how the Academy loomed over every other structure in Alicante. Even the coatrack by the door was wide and stretched far. Every muscle inside her ached to abandon the suspicion inside her, but she knew to set her feelings aside until the mission was accomplished. Edmund and Linette were counting on her.

So says the creed of the Herondale family: Expect nothing less than the best at odds end.


End file.
